A New Addition to the Family!

After 4 months with my host family, I feel like "part of the gang;" that initial awkwardness that characterized the first few days has subsided long ago. Now, I'm included in the daily rituals of family life, and the "not so pretty" happenings  are carried out free of shame. I know that every morning at 8am, my host mom will wake up my host sister. Inevitably, she'll start crying. Without fail, my mom will take a kicking and screaming 3 year old to her training potty. With a bit of coaxing from my host mom, my sister will enthusiastically relieve herself into her pink chamber pot. All the while, I'm munching down on a piece of toast, unperturbed at the bodily functions taking place mere feet from me. Yeah, I'd say we're comfortable with each other.*

*Side note: How do they potty train Korean youngsters to use the dreaded "squatty potty?"  Is a 3 year old even strong enough to squat? Do they possess the motor skills to properly aim? Korea has opened my eyes to many new things, but I wasn't expecting to learn about the complexities of intercultural potty training! But I digress...

Just as I know the schedule of my sisters bowl movements, I know my mother's shopping routine by heart also. Every monday night at 6pm, my host mom, sister and I will visit the supermarket. I'll fetch the shopping cart and load my lil' sis into the baby seat. We'll cruise around the aisles while my mom shops. She'll buy me gatorade and peanut butter (which have become my dietary connections to the motherland) and i'll watch her purse when she takes the little one to the restroom. (Her bowels move again at 6:30pm, fyi.) The butcher will say "hi" to me, my sister will cry at some point, and my mom will buy rice. We check out, I bag the groceries, load them and my sister into the car, return the shopping cart, and take the groceries into the house. Just like a good husband, err, host son, right? Sometimes I question why I'm really  here when I find myself carrying my mom's purse and my sisters baby toys while walking through public places. But I get peanut butter and gatorade out of the deal, so I think we're even. 

Although I fill many of the domestic roles a husband would assume,  my host dad spends a lot of time with his daughter.  Once he gets home from work at 7, the evenings are reserved for "daddy's little girl." It's precious to watch, and gives me some much needed alone time watching sports highlights in my room. 

However, "daddy's little girl" has recently found herself competing for attention. I present to you a creature who's just as cute and cuddly as my host sister. Ladies and gentleman, meet the newest addition to our family: 

When my host mom brought her home in a crate, I peeked inside and asked "dinner?" She gasped confused as to why I would suggest such a thing. I mean, we are in Korea after all...

I don't know her name. It's something in Korean, so I've knicknamed her "pupster."  Well, anyways, my host dad loves the little tike. She's his pride and joy, so much so, that I sense a bit of resentment among my host sister who now feels threatened by daddy's new girl.

Yeah, yeah, Heo, you're cute and all, but you're so yesterdays news...

 Last saturday, for example, my host dad and I built the lil' pupster a new doghouse. We labored outside in the rain for a good four hours while my  sister begged for her dad's attention.
"Heo, I'm busy," he would say as he nailed down another piece of wood. "I'm building the house of dog."
That wasn't good enough for my lil' sis. She immediately burst into tears after realizing she didn't have her daddy's undivided attention. My dad  rushed off to comfort his #1 girl, leaving me to man the radial arm saw and power drill.

The puppy palace, complete with central heating and a two car garage. 

 For such a little girl, the pupster sure has changed our family dynamic. I know that every morning at 8am, my host mom will wake up my host sister. Inevitably, she'll start crying. Then the dog will start crying. Without fail, my mom will take a kicking and screaming 3 year old to her training potty, followed by my dad frantically running into the garage to fetch his precious little girl. Kicking and screaming just like my host sister, my dad scoops the little pup into his arms so she can relieve herself outside. While this is going on, my sister will enthusiastically dump her bowels into her pink chamber pot.  Shortly after, my dad will praise the dog for doing her business on the grass, and my mom will praise her daughter for doing her business in her potty.  After both parents finish tending to their babies, life continues on as normal. All the while, I'm munching down on a piece of toast, unperturbed at the bodily functions taking place mere feet from me. Luckily, Taro Gomi's classic children's book "Everyone Poops" taught me exactly that.
Puppies and babies are a funny combination: both are helplessly adorable, illogical creatures that primitively act on their instincts without much forethought.( Much like my high school boys,  come to think of it.) Heo and the pupster are in constant need of attention and validation. I've realized some TLC goes a long way in soothing the souls of both beasts and babies alike. 

Overall, life in the home stay is predictable, familiar, and comfortable. It's a lesson thats easy to acknowledge, but hard to recognize: Everybody, all around the world, regardless of race, gender, creed, or nationality, is the same. We have the same hopes, dreams, desires, and fears. I didn't reach this conclusion through some profound event that highlighted the similarities of the human experience. It was much simpler than that:

Everyone poops. 

Until next time....